Five Nights
by GingerWitchWriter
Summary: Five one shot stories based upon the theme of nighttime within the relationship of Ron and Hermione, dealing with kids, illness, injury, fear and a little teenage escapism. Each story will be posted as a new chapter.
1. Chapter 1

_I know, I've been gone for awhile, but I am back with some new writing. I've been having a bit of a rough time lately (details of which are below for anyone who cares) and once again have found that writing is a good distraction, which I need right now._

_Anyway...the following is the first in a series of stories I have been writing and working on for some time. They all consist of 5 short one shots (of varying length, unrelated and various timelines) all based upon the same theme...i.e. this particular one is 5 nights in Ron and Hermione's relationship...other themes will follow. I shall be posting each story in each theme as a new chapter weekly (or I intend to)_

_Anyway, on with the first one...really hope you like this and please read my note below...and perhaps be patient if my weekly posting doesn't go according to plan – things are very much up in the air with my life right now. Let me know what you think anyway. Thank you._

_Disclaimer is on my profile page_

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**1.**

"Ron?" I called his name as I looked up from the book I was reading in bed, becoming a little concerned when I saw him stood by the window, curtain pushed aside as he looked down onto the darkened alley below. "Ron?" I called him again when he didn't answer me the first time. "Is something wrong?" I wondered if I should be on alert, if his Auror training had picked up on some possible threat.

"Huh?" he looked back at me, letting the curtain fall back into place and fiddling with the forgotten clothing he'd removed that now hung loosely in his hand.

"What are you doing and what are you looking at?" I wondered. He seemed distracted and had been acting rather strange ever since we'd got home tonight.

"Oh, erm, nothing," he muttered and began to fold his clothes – which was totally out of character for him, before placing them neatly on the stool.

"Well, stop messing about and come to bed then," I frowned and marked the page in my book before setting it down on the bedside table.

"Yeah, bed. Right," he nodded vaguely and finally moved towards the bed, pulling back the duvet to climb in beside me.

"Goodnight," I leant over and kissed his cheek before tapping the lamp with my wand to extinguish it and settled down onto my pillows.

"Actually," Ron clicked his Deluminator and light flooded back into both lamps on either side of the bed to reveal that he was still sat up, leaning against the headboard, "I thought I might read for a bit," he decided.

"Read? Now? Oh Ron, I'm tired, it's been a long day," I sighed, making myself comfortable and closing my eyes against the light.

"So? What about all the times you've sat reading when I was trying to sleep?" he snapped back, rummaging around for something in his bedside drawer.

I suppose I didn't have an answer for that, did I? "What exactly are you going to read anyway?" I glanced at his bedside table, knowing the only thing on it you could actually read was a clipping from last weeks Prophet of the current Quidditch league table and this seasons fixtures.

"Erm," he continued to rummage amongst the mess in his drawer, "I just fancy reading this," he pulled out a rather battered and dog eared copy of 'Flying with the Cannons' and showed it to me triumphantly.

"Haven't you read that about a dozen times?"

"Do I complain when you read 'Hogwarts: A History' repeatedly? It's been awhile, all right?" he huffed and made a show of opening the book up.

"Fine, but I'm going to sleep. It's late and you know what your Mum is like if we're late for lunch." I tapped my own lamp to turn it off – he could make do with the one his side and settled down again, leaving him with his book.

However, after a few minutes, I hadn't heard any tell tale rustle of pages being turned or anything. I was aware that he didn't read as fast as I did – I'm not sure anybody else did to be honest, but I also knew that book contained a lot of pictures.

"Ron," I asked into my pillow. "Are you actually reading that book or can we turn the lights out and go to sleep?" I asked him, opening one eye to peer up at him. He was sat, with the book in his lap, but staring into space with an unreadable expression. "Ron..." I poked his thigh with my finger. It might be pathetic, but I had found I wasn't able to sleep as well if I didn't start off cuddled with him.

"What?" he looked down at me. "Oh, all right, we'll go to sleep," he relented and finally tossed his book onto the floor as he rolled over to snuggle down beside me.

"You forgot the light," I reminded him.

"All right..." he mumbled and it took him a few moments before he actually turned it off.

"Goodnight," I kissed his forehead again and sighed gently, content now. He snuggled up close and pulled me into his arms, rather tightly, as though he was clinging to me. Strange, but I wasn't going to push him off me.

All had been quiet for some time, I was just in that stage of knowing you were falling asleep, right before it happens, when Ron suddenly leapt up, shouting.

"What the hell was that?" he snapped the lights back on.

"What?" I asked sleepily, covering my eyes with my hand.

"That noise. I heard a crack...in the flat somewhere."

I sighed and rolled over. "Probably just Harry getting home, Apparating into his room or something," I murmured. Honestly – who did he think it was? The pair of them had their flat above the Wheezes shop guarded with so many wards that the only people able to Apparate directly into it were those two or Ginny and myself.

"You sure?" he asked, hesitantly.

"Yes. For Merlin's sake Ron, just turn out the lights and go to sleep."

He huffed loudly, but did as I asked, though rather unwillingly and shuffled back under the covers to settle down, at least for a couple of minutes. Just as I was beginning to nod off again, Ron's fidgeting in bed disturbed me once more. I opened one eye and through the darkness I could just make him out, lying on his front, with his head hanging off the bed, muttering to himself.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing now?" I asked, sliding up onto my elbow.

"Ssh!" he hissed at me. "There's something in here... I think it's under the bed," he whispered, grabbing his wand and whispering Lumos to light it up. He looked back at me, put his finger to his lips and crawled off the bed, crouching to peer underneath it.

"What are you on about?" I whined, annoyed now as rubbed my eyes and peered over to look at him.

He shot me an aggravated look. "Something is in here, I can hear it scratching," he whispered again, creeping around.

I frowned at him and shook my head. He was behaving very oddly tonight, and I mean even more odd than usual. He crawled, on his belly, further under the bed and I could hear him sliding boxes and items aside under there.

"Ron..." I hissed, wanting him to come back to bed and just ignore whatever it was. He was starting to freak me out and I needed sleep.

"Shh!" he hissed in response, just before he let out a blood curdling scream. Had our room not been silenced, I was quite sure it would have woken the whole building, if not the whole street. He hastily backed out from under the bed, looking terrified, his wand held loosely in his hand as he shuffled backwards against the wall.

"What? What is it?" I asked, worried now myself. Maybe he was right and there really was something in here. Just before I got down beside him, my cat, Crookshanks, darted out from under the bed, hissing at him and sprinted across the room. The cat jumped up onto the windowsill where he glared at Ron with his amber eyes, his bushy tail flicking anxiously. "Oh, honestly!" I sighed and returned to my side of the bed, thumping my pillows angrily.

Ron sheepishly got to his feet, still shaking a bit and set his wand down on the bedside table again. "Well, how was I to know it was just your cat? I heard scratching and..." he faded off, his ears turning red as he glared back at my cat who was now ignoring him and had began grooming himself.

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with you tonight? You've been really jumpy ever since we got home. Anyone would think something had spook…" I faded off. "The film!" I realised.

"What?" he turned to look at me, the red flush spreading from his ears.

"That stupid film we saw tonight at the cinema." I rolled my eyes as his current bizarre behaviour suddenly all made sense. "I knew we shouldn't have gone to see a horror. It's scared you," I stated.

"No it hasn't!" he replied, rather affronted as he folded his arms over his chest determinedly. And just at that moment the window in our room rattled and Ron nearly leapt out of his skin. "What the fuck was that?"

"It's just the wind. Relax," I told him as I patted his side of the bed where he belligerently sat down. "It's okay to admit it freaked you out, Ron. I've been scared by horror films myself before. Although, it was you who wanted to see the damn thing."

"Big bloody mistake that was," he muttered, pulling his feet back into bed, "I just...well, I never expected that. It was so...horrible, with that creepy bloke thing and...the ending," he shuddered. "I didn't think Muggles, well never thought that that kind of stuff happened in the Muggle world." He looked up at me, pulling the covers up to his chin. He looked so afraid, staring into space and I melted, feeling a little sorry for him.

"Oh, sweetheart," I smiled at him and stopped myself from laughing, knowing it would only piss him off if he thought I was laughing at him and besides that wasn't the kind thing to do when he seemed genuinely afraid. "It wasn't real. None of it was. It was just a story, someone made the entire thing up. It was originally a book I believe and someone made a film about it. But the entire story wasn't true." I pulled him into my arms and stroked my fingers through his hair, finding him adorable and yet hilarious at the same time.

"Oh, right," he tried to act brave. "But...why would someone imagine stuff like that? I mean, you've got to have a pretty sick mind to think up things like that!" he looked up at me, meeting my eyes imploringly.

"Possibly," I shrugged. "But, after all the things you've seen and experienced so far in our lives, you know there are some very strange things in this world – both Magical and Muggle. And you know more than most that real evil exists. It's not that unheard of for people to imagine horrible things."

"Yeah, I suppose," he muttered, enjoying my caressing of his head as we lapsed into silence, both rather sleepy. "Can we keep the light on tonight though?" he asked after a few minutes. "You know, just to...to..." he couldn't think of a good enough excuse, other than the fact he was scared.

I smiled at him – there was something incredibly endearing about seeing him so vulnerable. "How about something else to take your mind off it?" I asked him.

"Like what?" he replied sulkily.

I answered him by pulling his face towards me and kissing him firmly on the lips as a hand slid down his body towards his thighs. I pulled back from the kiss to see his eyes, a silent question in my own.

"Yeah," he licked his lips. "Yeah, I think something like that might take my mind off it," he added eagerly, before pulling me back towards him and kissing me deeper.

Our bodies were soon naked and entangled with one another. And Ron didn't have a chance to even think about the silly film as I distracted him completely, before eventually falling into a blissful sleep together.

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_Thanks for reading, really hope you like it...another to come soon. Feedback is hugely appreciated._

_As for more details about my absence. Since I last posted anything, I had an amazing holiday in Florida, in which I got to visit the Wizarding World at Universal Studios and spend a small fortune on Harry Potter merch. However, since then my life has gone downhill. My closest friend stopped speaking to me, I assume because I was unable to afford to go to her wedding. Mum had a fall just before Christmas and broke her foot, so I was busy trying to 'do' Christmas for everyone as well as take care of her. Then, just as she was healing, my Dad was diagnosed with cancer and isn't doing so well. We're all taking care of him right now and trying to get him strong enough for the massive surgery that he needs to hopefully cure him. On top of all that, my mental health hasn't been doing so great._

_Which is why I have made myself get back into my writing – spending an hour or so a day lost in the Wizarding World and my imagination is a distraction I need._

_But, please be patient if my post updates don't go as I hope to, nothing can be planned in my life right now as we don't know when or what is going to happen. Thank you._

_And if you have read all that, I am grateful. Thanks for all your support._


	2. 2

_Back, as promised, with the next story in this series._

_WARNING...lots of mentions of vomiting, puking etc in this short story - if you're sensitive of that, you might want to skip this one. _

_That being said, hope you enjoy._

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2.

The hour was late and all was quiet in the Weasley-Granger household. The children had long since been tucked up in bed and were fast asleep. Ron was snuggled down and wasn't far off sleep himself whilst his wife, Hermione, sat up in bed reading one of the many books stacked on her bedside table.

"Mummy?" A little voice came from the door as their daughter peaked into their room.

"Rosie?" Hermione put her book down. "What's wrong sweetheart?" she asked.

"Tummy hurt," Rose replied, throwing open the door and stepping into their room whilst holding herself and looking up pitifully.

"Oh, come here darling," Hermione set her book aside and held her arms out for the child.

Rose only took a couple more steps, before promptly vomiting. Hermione leapt out of bed, whilst Ron, not having been as close to sleep as one might have thought, acted with his quick Auror responses. He'd grabbed his wand and re-directed the stream of vomit into the nearby wastepaper bin, rather than on the carpet, in the blink of an eye.

"Thank you," Hermione breathed gratefully before reaching her now sobbing little girl.

Ron shrugged and sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't want it on the floor, even when we vanish it, the smell remains," he muttered from experience.

"Come on sweetheart," Hermione gently placed her hand on Rosie's back, guiding her into the en-suite bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up," she spoke softly, noting how pale and clammy Rose seemed.

They'd barely made it to the bathroom before she was sick again and became increasingly distressed. And then Hugo woke, screaming his little lungs out.

"Ron?" Hermione looked to her husband frantically, trying to deal with their sick daughter, but also needing to respond to their baby son's cries.

"I got him," he was already out of bed and heading into the nursery. "Hey there buddy," he leaned over the cot railings and rubbed Hugo's tummy. "What's up with you. Huh? You're not going to throw up on me too, are you?" he asked, cautiously picking up the eight month old infant and holding him against his chest. Hugo's wails quietened a little to panted sobs as he grasped his Dad's shirt in his tiny fist.

Setting him down on the changing unit, he quickly changed his wet nappy. But the baby still wasn't happy. "Is it those pesky little teeth again?" Ron asked his son, kissing the top of his head as he cuddled him. "Still giving you trouble, huh?" he murmured.

"Ron?" Hermione called from their room. He hurried back, with the baby still whimpering on his chest.

"Yeah?" he asked, finding Hermione perched on the edge of the bathtub with Rose leant over the toilet, still being ill, as she held her hair out of the way and softly rubbed circles on her back with her other hand.

"Can you pass me my wand? I need to check her temperature." Ron grabbed it from her bedside table and quickly passed it over. "Is Hugo okay?" she asked, performing the spell to reveal Rose's temperature.

"I think his teeth are bothering him again," he sighed, gently rocking the baby against him.

Hermione sighed and set her wand down. "And this little girl has a fever." She grimaced as the poor child was sick again, wishing she could easily make her feel better.

"Think she needs a trip to St Mungo's?" Ron was worried, but Hermione shook her head.

"I don't think so. It's probably just a tummy bug. Angelina thought Fred was coming down with something yesterday. Rose probably picked up something from him. Can you go down to the kitchen and get the fever reducing potion?" she asked, wiping Rose's face with a cool flannel as she looked up at her mum pitifully. "It's the orange stuff, in a tall bottle."

Ron nodded. "The teething potion is down there as well, right?" he asked.

Hermione nodded and Ron went to grab the items to hopefully help ease both of his children's suffering. Before he'd had kids and became a dad he hadn't known there could be anything as traumatic or heart breaking as seeing your own little ones in pain. He'd do anything to keep them safe and well and it hurt to see them feeling so lousy and not being able to do much to make it all better.

"Come on buddy," Ron spoke to the snuffling baby on his shoulder. "Let's find something to help make you and your sister feel better." He kissed his son's tiny head again and then began to rummage in the kitchen potion cupboard, wishing he hadn't left his wand upstairs so he could simply Accio the items much faster.

It was almost two in the morning before Rose had stopped throwing up and the teething potion took effect on Hugo's sore gums to allow him to rest. Hermione had cleaned Rose up and changed her into fresh pyjamas and was now sat on their bed, holding their rather miserable daughter on her lap wrapped in a blanket. She didn't want to risk putting her back to bed or laying her down in their bed just yet in case she was sick again, not that the little girl would let her mum out of her sight anyway.

Ron was lying on his back in bed, the baby now contently asleep on his chest where he ran his hand up and down Hugo's back comfortingly. Since he'd finally settled, Ron hadn't dared even to move, let alone attempt putting him back in his cot for fear of waking him again. "The joy of having kids, huh?" he asked, giving his wife a wink.

She returned with a tired smile. "Yes," she sighed softly. "I think it's going to be a long night." She brushed Rose's damp hair off her face and then tried to slide her from her lap.

"No mummy!" Rose clung to her.

"I'm just going to get your cup with some cool water to sip, sweetheart. Here, you sit with daddy a minute. I'll be right back," she promised and passed their daughter off to her father and slipped out of the room, taking the bin Rose has been sick in earlier with her to get rid of.

Ron held his free arm out towards his daughter, who rather sulkily burrowed into him. "Hey there my sweet girl," he kissed her forehead. "You feeling any better?" he asked softly.

She slowly moved her head side to side where she half lay against him.

"Think you're gonna be sick again?" he worried, making an attempt to sit up whilst still holding the baby in case he had to act fast. Hugo startled against his chest at the movement, his legs twitched as he whimpered in his sleep.

"Tummy hurts," Rose told him, crying again, obviously in pain.

"Right, back to the bathroom," Ron sprung from the bed, waking Hugo who loudly protested the jostling and steered Rose back to the toilet just in time. Ron, though cringing at his daughter being sick and his son wailing in his ear again, was quite glad he didn't also have a pile of puke to clean off his bed.

"Oh no, I thought she'd stopped," Hermione groaned, setting the pink sippy cup down on the end of the bed and coming through to help by taking the baby from Ron and trying to soothe him again.

"Do you think he's going to get it too?" Ron nodded his head towards the baby whilst trying to comfort Rose who was in tears again.

Hermione shrugged and swapped Hugo to her other shoulder. "Who knows. It might run through all of us before we're done," she groaned.

"Great," Ron muttered from where he perched against the sink. "Isn't there anything we can give her to stop her being sick?" he cringed as she splattered into the toilet again, feeling terrible for the poor little thing.

Hermione shook her head. "It's probably for the best if the bug runs its course and she gets it out of her system, rather than trying to stop it. I'm sure it will just be one of those 24 hour things." she muttered to herself. "I'll check how Fred is with Ang in the morning, and Rose was playing with James and Albus today, I'd best let Harry and Ginny know to look out for it," she added the item to her mental to do list.

Ron nodded as he wiped Rose's face with a clean, cool cloth and gave her a little hug, wishing he could make her feel better. "My poor little Rosie Posie," he murmured, helping her off with her sweaty and now, stinky pyjamas.

"I'll go fetch her some more clean clothes," Hermione mumbled, taking Hugo with her.

Cleaned up once again, they settled back on the bed and Rose took a few small sips of water. Hugo refused to go back to sleep, although he'd stopped crying, he now thought it was playtime and fought against anyone's hold. He sat on the bed between his exhausted parents and his poorly sister, giggling and clapping his hands in glee as Ron entertained him with brightly coloured sparks and trails of coloured smoke emitting from his wand.

"Well, of course he's not going to sleep whilst you're doing that!" Hermione looked at him irritated.

"He's not going to sleep anyway, and if I don't entertain him, he's bound to start screaming again," Ron snapped back, both of them irritable and tired.

"Then go and fix him another bottle or something. That might settle him," she suggested,

"Yeah, and what if he's got that bug too, he'll just throw it all up all over us!"

"So you're suggesting we starve our children just in case they're sick?"

"That's not what I..." he shook his head and closed his eyes as he tried to remain calm and not argue with his wife. He knew they were both tired, it was getting on for three in the morning now and neither of them had slept after both having long and busy days. "I s'pose it's worth a try," he mumbled, getting up and leaving her with both children.

By the time he returned, Hermione was nodding against the headboard, jolting awake every few moments. Rose was curled up on her lap, wrapped in a blanket, clinging to her mother and looking utterly sorry for herself. Whilst Hugo lay on his back in the middle of the bed, babbling happily to himself and finding his own toes entertaining.

Ron hadn't returned empty handed either. Along with the bottle for Hugo, he had refreshed Rose's sippy cup of water and brought himself and Hermione a drink each. He'd also brought a bucket, which he put by the side of the bed. "Just in case," he muttered, "save you having to dart back to the bathroom." He gave Hermione a smile in return for her one of thanks. And, even with his hands full, had also collected Hugo's blankie, Rose's favourite stuffed unicorn that she dragged everywhere with her and one of her most read books. "I thought this might settle them both," Ron told Hermione, showing her the book as he scooped up Hugo and made themselves comfortable on the bed.

"Good idea," Hermione yawned.

Ron passed the stuffed toy to Rose, which she grasped tightly against her chest and then made sure that Hugo was settled with his bottle and blankie, sucking away contently before he opened the book and began to read out loud.

He hadn't got through much of the story before the bottle gradually slipped from Hugo's hold and a milk trail drooled from the corner of his mouth as he crashed out, finally. It had been over an hour since Rose had last been ill, so Hermione carefully dared to lay her down in their bed, making sure she stayed warm and brushed her red curls from the sleepy child's face.

"Try and get some rest sweetheart," she whispered as Ron continued to read to her. "Her temperature seems a bit better," she told Ron. He nodded and carried on, scared to stop in case it disturbed them as Hermione settled down beside her daughter, turning off her own lamp.

Rose was next to succumb to sleep, looking a little less weary and perhaps not quite as pale as she had been when her eyelids fluttered closed. And then, a soft snore came from Hermione's side of the bed. Ron looked over and smiled to himself, closing the book silently, he squeezed into the last bit of the bed and closed his eyes himself.

All was quiet once more in the Weasley-Granger household, the four occupants all now finally fast asleep in the same bed.

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_Please leave reviews - they're the only emails I get these days!_

_And thank you to everyone who left me good wishes and messages about my Dad. I have replied to those I could, but for those signed in as guests, thank you, I really do appreciate it. Things aren't very positive right now...but we're all just about hanging in there. Caring for a seriously ill parent is physically and emotionally exhausting!_

_But, thank you again. Back next week and hope you had a good Easter. _


	3. 3

_Sorry this is a day late - I forgot! It's been something of a week around here and my head is all over the place at times._

_Anyway, here is the next short story in this series...hope you enjoy!_

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3.

"Ron, just how far are we going?" I asked, turning to see his profile walking along beside me. The night was warm – a rare balmy summer evening at the end of July in Britain and Ron had decided we needed to get out of the house. I wasn't going to turn down some time alone with him.

"Far enough so those nosey gits can't hear us," he grunted and turned his head to check how far we'd come. The Burrow appeared rather small in the distance, lights still glowing from several windows. But, I knew what he meant – with every window in the house thrown open in the hopes of receiving a breeze, anyone could be listening in. "Ah, here will probably do," he dropped my hand to spread out the blanket he'd been holding over his arm and then sat down, patting the spot beside him with a grin up at me.

I returned his smile and sat beside him, where he produced two cold bottles of pumpkin juice he must have swiped from the kitchen. We took a few sips, before settling the bottles down in the grass and then Ron lay down on the blanket and propped himself up on one elbow.

"So, how are your parents doing?" he asked gently as I mirrored his position, facing him.

"Oh," I considered his question carefully. We'd only returned from Australia a couple of weeks ago, where we had eventually tracked down my parents and managed to successfully reverse the spell on them and restore all their memories. It had been an emotional, though somewhat confusing reunion. "They're a little better I think. I think they're starting to understand why I had to do what I did. But, they still get a bit confused about things."

"I suppose it will take awhile for things to settle down for them again, get back to normal and all that," he replied, tactfully.

I nodded. "Yes, I would expect so. And, I'm sure things will be better for them once they find work again and things become more routine. There was talk of them maybe starting up their own dental practice, which would be good for them. They'll need something to do, especially when I leave for, well, erm...Hogwarts," I muttered the last word, knowing it was sore point between us right now. Neither of us wanted to think of parting. "How's George?" I quickly changed the subject.

Ron shrugged and took another swig from his bottle. "He has good days and bad days I guess. Spends a lot of time by himself and stuff..."

"It will take some time." I clasped his free hand after he put his juice down again. "I mean, for your whole family. You're all still grieving, but it has to have hit him the hardest. He has, for all intents and purposes, lost his other half."

"Yeah, Mum has good days and bad days too – Dad is best with her. But, George...I just try to be there when he wants to talk or whatever and make sure he eats. It's still hard though – seeing him on his own and stuff," Ron sniffed and I squeezed his hand in mine as I leant forward and softly kissed his forehead.

"Your being brilliant for him. So patient and sometimes you're the only one that seems able to get through to him. You've been there for everyone really."

Ron shrugged again, a little sheepishly as a pink tinge covered his face. "I'm trying," he mumbled and shifted to lay on his back. With a gentle sigh, I moved over and lay my head on his chest. His arm came up to wrap around my shoulders as we gazed up at the clear, star filled sky.

It was nice to be here with Ron like this, content and alone together. It no longer felt weird to be alone with him, although I probably wouldn't go as far as saying it felt normal yet, but it was nice. It wasn't exactly easy to get any time to ourselves in his home – there was always someone around, someone wanting to check we were okay – so any solitude we could find was welcome. Even if it meant having to sneak out after my parents had gone to bed – as I had done tonight. Lucky for us, they were early sleepers – up to bed straight after the 9 0'clock news.

Because now that my parents were back in the country, I almost felt torn between them. Wanting to share my time with them and my boyfriend and friends. I'd never admit this to anyone, but I missed Ron when I wasn't by his side. I suppose having spent years with him always around would do that. But, right now I had to split my time between my own family and his, coming to visit as much as I could. And I usually managed to pop over at least once a day, because the truth was, Ron was my anchor – he was what kept me sane in all this tragic mess we were dealing with.

His hand came up to play with my hair – a habit he had adopted lately after confessing how he'd always wanted to run his fingers through it, wondering what it would feel like. Gradually his fingers drifted to my neck, his fingertips lightly stroking my skin and I looked up at him as he raised his head slightly and his smile met mine. It seemed instinctive to manoeuvre until out lips could meet and we were kissing again.

It had barely been three months since our very first kiss, yet already I had lost count of the number of times we'd kissed since – as though we were making up for lost time and missed opportunities. It might not be easy to find some quiet time alone, but we made the most of it when we did. I also didn't think I would ever get used to it.

Oh, not that he was bad at it or I didn't like it. Quite the opposite in fact. I just didn't think I would ever stop that fluttery excited feeling in my belly when his lips met mine or he gazed at me with eyes full of affection or his hands touched me. Nor would I want it to. It was all new and thrilling and I didn't want there to ever be a time when Ron didn't thrill me as our lips moved gently together, his hands squeezed me even closer to him and he rolled our bodies so as I lay half under him.

"H'mione..." he whispered, kissing me deeper, one hand now cradling my head as the other ran softly up and down my body. My own hands were clasped behind his neck, holding him close to me, toying with the ends of soft ginger hairs at his neck – his hair much shorter since his mother had forced him into a hair cut.

"Ron," I sighed happily, enjoying his weight and heat against me, knowing that he was mine and that he felt the same way about me that I had felt for him for years. We were together, after years of wanting him, dreaming of being with him like this. You can't imagine what it was like to be in his arms and know that it meant just as much to him.

His hand crept beneath my thin t-shirt, lightly stroking the skin at my waist and I let him, my body shivering against his. And it had nothing to do with the night air. His hand slid higher, stroking the underside of my breast through my bra. I sighed into his kiss as a mixture of warmth and nerves filled my belly. His hand crept a bit further up, cupping a full breast in his hand and I panicked.

"Ron," I warned him, placing my hand over his to stop him and push it back down.

He quickly pulled his hand away, looking rather guilty. "I'm sorry, I..." he flushed and backed away from me, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat up on the blanket.

"It's okay. Its just, I don't think I'm ready to go further, yet," I told him, feeling embarrassed. We'd barely told each other I love you, how on earth were we meant to have a conversation about sex?

"No, of course, that's erm, that's fine. Great even. I'm sorry," he repeated and he rambled his words. "I just...I forget and...and..."

"Really, it's okay," I told him, sitting up too and readjusting my top. "So long as you stop when I ask you too."

He nodded his head vehemently, "I course I would. I'd never..." he looked positively scandalised. "Hermione...if I ever do something you don't want me to, you have to tell me. I'll stop and I'll wait. Just...let me know." From the light of the moon, I could tell he was blushing. "I mean, damn," he cursed and ran a hand frustratingly through his hair as he blew out a breath.

"I know," I assured him, taking hold of his hand. "I know you'd never, you know...take advantage or try to force..."

"No! I bloody wouldn't!" He looked horrified at the suggestion. "I just, sometimes my hands have minds of their own and I get caught up in the moment and you feel so good...and I'm sorry. Please, tell me when I do something wrong, okay?"

"It's not wrong to want to do those things Ron. Just, not quite yet?" I asked. In all honesty, his touch excited me and that both thrilled and terrified me at the same time.

He smiled and nodded. "Sounds good to me," he leant forwards and softly kissed my forehead. "But, if we're ever doing something, and...you know, you'd like to continue, tell me that too, yeah?" he smirked and I chuckled at him. "But, whenever you're ready...it's cool."

"I will," I promised him and reached for my bottle of pumpkin juice for a sip. "Come here," I told him, placing the bottle down and laying back on the blanket. He smiled at me and lay down beside me, facing one another again.

Smiling together in the moonlight, Ron leant up on one elbow and softly kissed me again. Short, gentle kisses dropped onto one another's lips, but keeping our distance a bit more. He ran one finger down my throat, and just as any touch from him or any affectionate look from him elicited within me, I trembled in delight.

"Are you cold? Do you wanna head back inside?" he asked, concerned.

I shook my head, chancing a glance towards the house over his shoulder. All the windows were in darkness now, but there wasn't much chance that everyone was also sleeping, not with this heat. "No, not yet. We barely get any time alone, and we only have four weeks left before I..." I faded off from what I had been about to say, not wanting for us to fall out over it again. He'd seemed rather put out when I had decided to return to school, even though I knew he and Harry weren't going and he'd gone off in one of his silent moods.

"It's all right, you know," he told me quietly, as we rolled onto our fronts and he took hold of my hand in his. "You going back to school I mean. To be honest, the moment McGonagall came here and offered us the chance to finish our education, I knew you'd want to go."

"You did?" I asked, surprised, wondering why I had been given the silent treatment over my decision in that case.

He shrugged. "Of course. You wouldn't be you without wanting to learn everything you can and getting top grades in your N.E.W.T.'s and..."

"Don't say that!" I squeaked. "The N.E.W.T. year is supposed to be really tough and…

"Tougher than the year we just had?" he looked at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, no. Obviously not. But, I'll still need to work really hard to keep up with all the work and achieve good grades and everything."

"You'll do it," he answered, certain of the fact as he gave me a reassuring smile.

"I hope so," I sighed, shaking the hair back from my face.

"I know so. I...I'll just, I'll miss you," he confessed then, tugging at blades of grass and tossing them away, before daring to peek up at me.

I smiled, knowing the reason for his brooding now. "I'll miss you too. Though, I suppose I knew you and Harry would never want to go back. It's not as though either of you ever particularly enjoyed your studies!" I laughed and he joined in with me, nudging his head against my shoulder.

"Whoever are you going to boss around about homework without us?" he asked, teasingly.

"I do not boss. I just, encouraged you," I protested, feebly, nudging him back.

"Whatever, love," he replied and my heart skipped a beat at his use of a pet name for me. It had been rather new over the last few weeks and I found I really liked to hear it.

"Anyway, the offer Kingsley made to you both is very prestigious, Auror training without a complete education. And it's something I know you'll both be happy in and good at. Whilst I'm up to my ears in homework," I laughed lightly, but found no humour in it. "Ron," I added after a few moments.

"Hmm?" he looked up, flicking the grass off his lap and met my eyes.

"You...you will wait for me, won't you?" I mumbled, tugging at a loose thread on the edge of the blanket to avoid looking in his eyes.

"Wait for you?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yes," I nodded. "I mean whilst I'm away at school. After all, you'll be at the Ministry with all those women and you being a war hero, they'll be throwing themselves at you and..."

He started to laugh. Loudly. I frowned, here I was telling him my deepest feelings, confessing my real concerns to him and he was laughing at me. I sat up and must have had a disgruntled look on my face, because one look at me and he was laughing even louder.

"Oh, Hermione," he chuckled, sitting up beside me and pulling me against him, kissing the top of my head, despite my feeble attempts to push him away. "I thought you were smarter than that?"

"Huh!" I scoffed.

He smiled. "Don't you know? Haven't you realised yet?" he asked, tilting his head to peer into my face.

"Realised what?" I asked, thrusting my chin out, determined not to allow him to see how upset I was.

"Realised that now the pair of us have finally confessed how we feel to one another, that now we've both finally got our act together and we're, you know, much more than friends. Now you're my girlfriend," he added with a grin. "Well, you're kinda, you're stuck with me now, love." he smiled at me.

It took me a moment to process his words and then a smile grew on my lips and relief filled me. "I wouldn't have it any other way," I promised him as our lips met in the vow of a sweet, tender kiss.

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_Please leave me reviews...so I can get nice emails (well, I hope they're nice!)_

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_More soon..._


	4. 4

_Apologies for the delay again, though I didn't forget this time. I simply wanted to change a huge chunk of it, that I didn't get around to doing until last night. Anyway, I hope you enjoy...please leave me reviews so I can smile about something (well, so long as its nice)_

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4.

"I'm sorry madam! You can't go in there!" A young man, whom I suspected to be a trainee Auror, stepped into my path, blocking my way.

"Excuse me!" I snapped at him, trying to get by. In my flustered and panicked state I hadn't caught what he'd said as I tried to side step him.

"I'm sorry, this ward is high security. No one is allowed in without proper clearance," he insisted, holding out his arms in front of the door to stop me getting past.

"I'm well aware of that!" I huffed. "I've been here before, now let me through!" I tutted at him. "Do you not realise who I am?" I asked, when he blocked me again. "My husband is in there and I need to get through, NOW!" I shouted at him, losing my patience.

Not ten minutes ago I had been all cosy in bed, reading a book before going to sleep. And then Harry's patronus had landed in the middle of the bedroom, informing me that Ron had been injured and was at St Mungos. I'd rushed out of bed, pulling clothes on over my pyjamas and pulling my hair back into a messy ponytail on my way down to use the floo. I hadn't even stopped to grab any shoes, lilac fuzzy slippers still adorned my feet.

"I'm sorry madam, but it is the policy on this ward that..."

"I don't give a rat's arse about your policy. I need to see my injured husband right now!" I spat at the stupid little man who was really irritating me now.

The door to the ward crashed open at that moment as Harry came charging through, obviously having heard raised voices. He took one look at me and then the Auror. "Parker!" he barked. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Let Weasley's wife through!" he ordered, pushing him aside to take my arm and lead me through the doors, leaving Parker stumbling over his apologies behind us. "Idiot!" Harry hissed under his breath. "Sorry, he's new and..."

"How is he?" I asked as Harry hurried me along the corridor, past private rooms all set aside in this special ward for Aurors.

He turned to me, his face grave and my heart dropped. "Right now, he's totally out of it. They gave him some potion to knock him out because he wouldn't lay still," he admitted.

I breathed a sigh of relief, he was alive at least. "What happened?" I asked.

"Erm," he grimaced.

"Harry. What happened?" I demanded to know.

"Well, he, erm...he sort of...fell over," he shrugged and looked rather sheepish.

"He fell over?" I repeated, disbelievingly. "He's a highly trained Auror and you're telling me he got injured because he fell over?"

"No," Harry sighed and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. "Okay, that's not quite what happened. See, we were out on what was supposed to be a routine raid – got a tip off about some new Dark Artefacts going on the market. Only, we got ambushed, it was probably all a set up. One minute I saw Ron duelling three at once – a witch and a couple of wizards, next thing I saw," he winced again and I felt like smacking him, wishing he'd just get on with it. "Well, one minute he was holding his own, duelling, the next he'd erm...he'd been blasted through the side of the building and he was covered in rubble," he confessed and couldn't meet my gaze.

"Was he...was he conscious?" I asked him rather hesitantly with my heart in my throat.

"I don't know, I was a bit busy myself!" he snapped. "The second that back up arrived, I got him out of there and brought him straight here."

"How bad is he exactly?" I asked, my imagination was running away with me.

"Erm, probably best to ask his Healer," he looked relieved to see said man just exiting a room. "How is Mr Weasley doing?" Harry asked him. "This is his wife," he added as he introduced me.

"I see. I'm Healer Gresswell, pleased to meet you Mrs Weasley." He shook my hand. I was so distracted with worry that I didn't bother to correct him that I still went by my maiden name. To be honest, after all the fuss I had made about not changing my name, I rarely corrected people in most circumstances outside of work. "Your husband is rather a lucky chap. He's suffered some broken bones, about crushed three of his ribs, which is why we have him on a sleeping draught, he was flailing around too much and we couldn't set the bones correctly. We had to remove most of his crushed ribs and give him a dose of Skele-Gro to allow them to regrow accurately. He's lost a fair amount blood and has a few cuts and bruises...but all in all, he's very lucky. He should make a full recovery. He'll remain asleep for the next few hours though," he explained, checking his charts.

"Thank you," I whispered, blinking back tears, imaging how much pain he must have been in. We'd all suffered injuries throughout our time, and yet it never got any easier to see the one's you loved hurt and in pain. "Can I see him?" I asked hopefully, wrapping my arms around myself as some kind of protection.

"Of course, he's just in here." He turned to open the door he'd just come out of and waved me inside.

Ron was lying perfectly still in a stark, clean white bed. Crisp, stiff sheets pulled up to his armpits. He was topless, his arms laying atop of the sheets, one of them adorned with a heavy bandage. Evidence of his chest being heavily bandaged was evident over the top of the sheets as well. Raw, pink lines and deep purple blotches marred his skin here and there – wounds that had been healed with magic, but still had a way to go.

"Oh Ron," I gasped, my hand over my mouth in shock. The scariest thing to me was how still he was, the short rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was still alive.

"I know he looks a bit of a mess right now. But he will soon heal and recover," Mr Gresswell assured me.

"Is he in any pain?" I asked.

"No. The sleeping draught will take care of that. If he's in pain when he wakes, we can give him another potion for that. I'll leave you with him now, if you have any further questions, please have someone find me."

"Thank you," I barely looked up at him as I pulled a chair to Ron's side and sat down, brushing the hair off his face, mindful of the cuts and bruises.

"Do...do you need anything?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence had passed. I looked around, surprised he was still here, stood rather awkwardly by the door. "I mean, I can get you some tea or..."

"I'm fine," I shook my head.

"Right, yeah..." he nodded and looked awkward again as he checked his watch and sighed quietly, leaning against the wall.

"Harry, why don't you get off home?" I suggested, scooting to the edge of the chair so I could reach Ron's hand and not pull on his arm.

"Are...are you sure?" he asked, hesitantly.

I nodded. "You can't do much else for Ron right now and I'll be fine. Go home, get some sleep." I told him, noticing how he looked almost dead on his feet – it had been a long day for the pair of them.

"Right, yeah. Well, if you really don't mind. I think I will," he nodded to himself. "It's just, Ginny will be getting worried and she won't sleep until I'm home, and right now, with the baby and..."

"Harry," I gave him a little smile, tearing my eyes away from Ron for a second. "Go on, get home to your pregnant wife." I shooed him away. Ever since Ginny had discovered she was pregnant about five months ago, Harry had become an absolute nervous wreck! He was convinced he was doing everything wrong and that he would make a lousy father, even though he was also excited about the idea.

"I'll see you later then," he came over and gave me a one armed hug around my shoulders. "Let me know if there's any change, okay?" I nodded, patting his hand on my shoulder. "And don't worry, he'll be fine," he promised, kissing the top of my head lightly and making his way towards the door. "I'm going to post an Auror outside the room, so if you need anything – tea, food, to owl me or whatever, get them to do it, all right?"

"Thank you Harry," I looked up, offering my thanks with a smile. Harry was still my best friend. Obviously my husband was too, but...Ron and I shared something much deeper than friendship, something much more personal, so it was different between him and me now.

"Oh, I'll let his parents know in the morning. No need for them to panic and rush over right now. Besides, you'd no doubt like some time alone with him," he smiled, before he opened the door and waved his goodbyes.

"Thanks," I repeated over my shoulder, grateful to have Ron to myself for awhile. I adored his parents, but his Mum did tend to overly fret, and some quiet time to sit and be alone with my husband for awhile would be nice. Harry waved again and closed the door with a quiet click.

"Now then Mr Weasley, it's just me and you," I whispered, standing to lean over his bed and lightly kiss his forehead. "And you really need to stop scaring me like this, okay?" I whispered, wiping a stray tear from my face. "After all," I added, taking my seat again, "it's not like this is the first time I've spent hours sat at your bedside," I sighed, holding his hand gently in my own, running my thumb back and forth across his knuckles.

I spent the next few hours, sat in silence, barely taking my eyes off my husband and not letting go of his hand as I reminisced on our life together – the many times I'd sat, just like this, by his side whilst he was unconscious. When he was poisoned on his 17th birthday, after the battle at the Ministry and all the various illness' and injuries he'd succumbed to in school. Since he'd become an Auror, he'd finished up in here more than I would have liked, so much so that the Welcome Witch downstairs didn't even have to ask my name now, she merely directed me to where ever he was.

This was the first time he'd been kept in overnight for some time though, so I knew he'd done a pretty good number on himself this time. Usually he was patched up and sent home to recover and I'd get to play nurse and take care of him for awhile. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, but he lapped up all the care and attention.

In the quietness of the room and the lateness of the hour, I found my thoughts drifting back to our wedding day almost a year ago. Then further back to the day he had finally proposed to me and then further still, the first time he'd told me, quite earnestly, that he was in love with me. All of them were very special, tender moments in my life that I didn't ever want to forget. And I was never quite sure which was really my absolute favourite moment.

With a smile, I remembered every detail from our honeymoon and every special moment we'd spent together and all I knew was that I wanted at least a hundred more years of this. A hundred more years to call him my husband, to share my love with him and revel in his love for me. And, one day, perhaps not too far in the future, I wanted to have a family with him. Make babies of our own and raise them together.

I was so lost in my own thoughts and in my focus on Ron's still form lying in the bed that I barely noticed the healers popping in once or twice to check his pulse and his temperature and other things. I didn't even notice daylight creeping in through the tiny window in his room.

Not until there was a quiet knock and the door opened a crack. "Mrs Weasley?" a voice asked. I didn't bother to correct him either – truth was, sometimes I wanted to simply be Mrs Weasley, Ron's wife.

"Yes?" I replied. Looking up and realising then how stiff my back and neck were from sitting in the same position all night.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," the Auror that Harry had posted outside the room stepped in quietly. I had honestly quite forgotten he'd been out there. "I just thought you might like some tea and biscuits?" he asked, handing me a small tray with said items on.

"Oh. Yes. Thank you," I smiled my thanks, taking the tray from him gratefully. I hadn't realised how thirsty I was. "That was kind of you," I added.

He shrugged, already backing out of the door. "Don't mention it," he muttered. "Your husband, Ron...he's a good bloke. Hope he's better soon," he added before closing the door behind him.

Setting the tray down on the bedside table, I poured myself some tea and nibbled on a chocolate biscuit before enjoying the hot beverage with a sigh.

And then there was movement in the bed. Ron's fingers moved, and then his eyes fluttered and his mouth twitched into a grimace as he tried to move.

"Hey, settle down," I whispered to him, carefully urging him back against the pillows. "You're going to be sore and the Healer says you need to keep still," I told him gently, not sure if the Skel-Gro would have completed it's work yet or not.

"'Ermione?" he asked, bleary eyed.

"Yes, I'm here, sweetheart. Been here with you all night," I muttered and kissed him on the forehead gently.

He smiled, his eyes still closed as he lay back in the bed with a sigh. "You smell like biscuits," he mumbled, his nose twitching a little as he sniffed. "Chocolate, I think."

I laughed, softly. "Oh, I think you're going to be perfectly fine," I smiled, glad to see he was awake and coherent and behaving in a typical Ron fashion. "Though, don't you dare scare me like that again," I warned him, jovially.

"I'll try not too," he muttered, already exhausted from the brief exertion.

Over the next few hours he regained his strength and was visited by various family members including his parents as well as Harry and Ginny who all fussed over him, relieved to see he was doing better. After a final check, Healer Gresswell, decided Ron was fit enough to go home, though he was ordered to rest at home and advised to stay off work for the next week.

Once safely home and I had him settled in our bed, I kissed him softly, loving the fact that he responded, that he was feeling up to such activity. "Now, can I get you anything?" I asked, tucking the duvet in around him.

"Well," he began, giving me a cheeky grin, "can I get some of them biscuits now?" he asked.

I laughed and kissed the top of his head. "Just because I'm relieved you're okay, you can have the whole packet."

"Brilliant!" Ron grinned from the bed as I left the room. "Maybe I should get injured more often," he mused to himself.

"Don't even think about it Ronald!" I yelled back.

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_If you enjoyed this one, please leave me a review! I really appreciate every last review people take the time to post._

_Last one in this series to be posted next week...and then I need to decide which theme to post next, or post a mixed bunch and add to them as I write stories for them (as not all themes have the 5 stories each written yet) So, I need to decide what I'm doing with them...which would you prefer?_

_Thanks._


	5. Chapter 5

_Here is the final chapter/story for the Five Nights series. I really hope you enjoy this one, even if it is the shortest of the lot. I think I have decided how I am gong to be posting the rest - details below._

_If you have left me a review, I have/will reply to everyone that I can. If I don't, it's because you're logged in as a guest, so I can't reply. But, I just want people to know I really do appreciate you taking the time to leave a review. Thank you._

_That being said, if you enjoy this one, I'd love to hear about it :)_

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5.

I heaved a huge sigh as I rolled over in bed yet again, adjusting all the pillows behind my back, under my head and the ones shoved between my legs in hope of trying to get comfortable enough to sleep. Although I suspected it just wasn't going to happen tonight - being just over eight months pregnant, things had become too big, too awkward and uncomfortable for doing anything much. I couldn't remember it being this bad when I'd been pregnant with Rose. I turned, rather ineptly, onto my left side for awhile, eyes tightly shut as I willed sleep to come.

And then winced again as the baby kicked hard – why he or she always seemed to consider this the perfect time to be awake and torture their mother, I didn't know, but I wished it would stop it. I rolled onto my back and huffed loudly, flinging the duvet off myself and rubbing my belly in hopes of calming the baby. But in this position my back tensed and ached too much, so I rolled to my right, facing Ron who was blissfully fast asleep. I watched him enviously for a few moments, before closing my eyes again, beyond annoyed with the situation now.

It was another ten minutes of clumsy tossing and turning – not an easy feat with a huge belly in the way, before Ron stirred and opened one bleary eye in the dark. "You okay?" he asked, a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Can't sleep," I muttered in reply, wanting to cry from frustration. I was actually exhausted, but I just couldn't find a comfortable position.

"The baby?" he asked, knowingly.

"Your child seems to think it's time for bludger practice," I grumbled. "I can't get comfortable at all."

Ron leant up on his elbow, kissing the top of my head softly. "Want me to rub your back for you?" he offered.

"No," I sighed heavily and rolled onto my back again so I could see him. "You have to work in the morning. I'll be fine," I assured him.

"Honestly?" he asked, already laying back down.

"Yes, go back to sleep," I told him, grasping his hand and lacing our fingers together.

"Okay," he mumbled, "if you're sure." He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze as he closed his eyes again.

"Sorry I woke you," I added.

"S'ok," he yawned and within seconds he was snoring again.

I sat up in bed and looked down at him, feelingly inexplicably frustrated with the fact that he was already asleep again and that it came so easily for him. In a fit of jealous rage, I wanted to shake him and wake him up again, demand that he rub my back and read to me and make me some warm milk – anything that might help me finally doze off.

But then I watched the soft lines of his face, untroubled and peaceful in sleep, knowing that he needed it. He did have to work in the morning and his job was demanding – any lack of sleep could prove dangerous to him out on a job and I could never bring myself to do that to him. Rose would just have to make do with a tired and cranky mum tomorrow.

Instead, not wanting to disturb him further, I slipped from the bed, shoved my feet into my slippers and grabbed my dressing down as I crept from the room. Heading towards the stairs, I paused to look in on Rose. She too was fast asleep, her arms thrown carelessly over her head, her blankets at her feet and the dummy she'd gone to sleep sucking, fallen by her side. Smiling at our sweet two year old daughter, I carefully tucked her in again, knowing the blankets would be kicked right off again in minutes and left her room, heading downstairs.

Instead of warm milk, I made myself a cup of soothing chamomile tea and sat on the sofa in the living room lit only by moonlight. "I really wish you'd let your mum sleep," I stroked my belly, talking to our unborn child. With Rose, we had known she was a girl right from the start. With this baby, we had decided to let it be a surprise. Of course everyone had their own opinions on what we were expecting.

Ron had told me countless times that he honestly didn't care what we got. Neither did I really, so long as he or she was healthy. Though, secretly I would like to give Ron a son, and one of each sounded like the perfect family to me. But everyone else, especially family members, took interest in speculating on what it would be. I wouldn't be surprised to find out George was taking bets on it to be honest.

Because this baby was sitting much differently to how Rose had been during my first pregnancy, putting more strain on my back, Molly claimed that meant this baby was a boy. She reckoned all her boys had given her back ache. Fleur said that was nonsense, that she'd had just as much back ache with her girls as she had with Louis. And Angelina reckoned being pregnant with Fred had been worse than her second – she breezed through her pregnancy with Roxanne.

All I knew was that I was much more tired this time around. I had started maternity leave much earlier than I had during my first pregnancy. Mostly at the insistence of my healer and to ease the worry of my husband who said he didn't want another medical emergency with me collapsing on the job, thank you very much. But even still, I was so tired all the time. I suppose when I'd been pregnant with Rose, I hadn't had to deal with an on the go toddler like I did this time. She certainly kept me on my toes all day long. Even if we took an afternoon nap together, she'd wake after only an hour or two and find great fun in poking my face until I woke up too – usually after I had just nodded off.

And now, the nights had become a struggle for sleeping. I would honestly be glad when I gave birth right now. Not that that would help much with the sleepless nights I realised. But at least I might be able to get comfortable again, I thought wincing as I shoved another pillow behind my back and sipped some of my tea.

I picked a book up that I had been reading earlier, but was so tired that my eyes couldn't focus on the words. So, instead lay my head back against the sofa and closed my eyes – at least I was resting, I decided.

And then the lounge door opened behind me, I prayed it wasn't Rose – she had taken to climbing out of bed just lately, ever since we'd moved her into her big girl bed, wanting to get her used to it before the cot was needed for her sibling. It had taken several nights and some gentle persuasion to settle her in it since she thought it was a brilliant game to get up to see mummy and daddy all night long now she didn't have the added effort of having to climb out. Though, she had never made it downstairs, as of yet that is.

A hand then gently clasped my shoulder. "What you doin' down here, love?" Ron asked, sounding thick with sleep as he rubbed his eyes.

I looked up at him peering over the back of the sofa at me. "I didn't want to wake you again," I replied. "What did you come down for?" I threw the question back at him.

He shrugged, "can't sleep when you're not in the bed." he said.

"Huh," I scoffed. "You were snoring well enough when I left the room."

"Well, I woke up and when I saw you weren't there, I got worried. Come on, come back to bed," he held his hand out to help me up.

I shook my head and took another sip of tea. "I'm actually more comfortable here," I admitted.

Ron sighed softly, looked around the room and spied the blanket laying on the armchair. "Shift up then," he told me grabbing the blanket and shaking it out.

"Huh?" I asked him.

"Shift up, make room for me," he demanded, shooing his hands at me. "If you're sleeping down here, then so am I," he added as I shuffled down the couch a bit.

He sat down behind me, stretching his legs along the sofa, against my own, then pulled me back to rest against his chest, with the help of a nest of cushions to support my back and threw the blanket over us both, tucking it in until we were nice and cosy. "All right" he asked me, one arm around my shoulders.

I smiled up at him, this was nice, almost perfect I decided as I nodded my head laying against his chest.

He picked the book up from where I'd abandoned it on the arm of the sofa then, found my last saved place and with a faint light from his wand, he began to softly read, out loud, to me.

I smiled and settled in against him, feeling more loved and cared for and protected than ever before. People who doubted our marriage never saw these tender moments, never knew this man the way I did. But, Ron was a sweet, loving husband. Yes, he was stubborn, lazy and obnoxious when he wanted to be, but I got to see much more of his considerate, tender side than anyone else – something I had always known was there.

And, with the soothing cadence of his voice murmuring to me, the lulling of his heartbeat beneath my ear and his warmth surrounding me, finally, gradually, I drifted into blissful, much needed, sleep.

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_Reviews (kind ones) make me happy...and I don't have much of that in my life right now, so if you can spare a moment to let me know you liked it, that would be great!_

_Okay, so this might be the last little story in this particular series, but I have many more of these - 5 short stories written on the same theme in progress. The only problem is, none of the others actually have all 5 stories written yet, some have 3 or 4 done, some only have an idea for them. So, what I am going to do over the next few weeks, is post a bunch of themes and then add to them as and when the stories are written. Most have at least 2 written I think, but as I don't get much time for writing at the moment, I didn't want to start posting just one theme and then leave you hanging whilst I get around to finishing that one. So, that means there could be 4 or more stories in incomplete stages from me at a time - something I never usually do (I like to have something completed before I start posting it) _

_Anyway, that is my idea for right now...and I hope you will enjoy these other themes too._

_Thanks again. _


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